


I met my old lover on the street last night

by itsahockeynight



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 819 day, Communication Issues, Future Fic, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 08:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsahockeynight/pseuds/itsahockeynight
Summary: Sasha had considered not coming to this thing at all when he’d heard Nicke would be going, but in the end his desire for closure – or at least to tell Nicke how much it had hurt – won.





	I met my old lover on the street last night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hypocorism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypocorism/gifts).

> \- I started writing this when it was still August 19th in America, so it counts, right?  
\- title from Paul Simon's _Still Crazy After All These Years_

“Need to talk to you.”

Nicke’s face does that thing where he knows what Sasha means, he's taking it seriously, but he still wants to say _we are literally talking right now_ and he has to take a second to suppress that before he goes back to looking quietly mournful. Sasha watches his eyebrow twitch and realises that no, he’s never going to be over Nicke. Even if they work it out now, even if Sasha finds someone else, Nicke’s colonized a little corner of his heart and Sasha will never uproot him.

“Do you want to…” Nicke’s looking around the room at the stragglers still left, mostly old timers, sitting in their little groups shooting the shit. Sasha and Nicke are old-timers now, technically. It’s their first real alumni event. That’s kind of fucked up.

Sasha shrugs. “It’s fine.” No one’s going to overhear. He leans both elbows on the table and looks Nicke straight in the eye. “You know you broke my heart, right?”

“I know.” Nicke rubs one hand over his face then wrinkles his nose. “I didn’t enjoy it, or something like that.”

Sasha knows. “So why?”

It wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to him, but it’s up there. The way Nicke had done it, too, in Sasha’s bed in Sasha’s _house_, tracing his fingers through Sasha’s chest hair as he said he was going to miss it, miss them. Letting Sasha stutter and stumble out his confusion before he ended things as if he’d been planning it for a while. He was going back to Gävle and Sasha was going to Moscow and this was a natural stopping point, really. Like Sasha must have been feeling the same.

Like _fuck_.

Now Nicke curls his left hand, the one on the table, into a fist, and thinks before he speaks. Sasha can see his jaw working. “I didn’t want it to end badly.” Sasha snorts. “I know, right? Stupid.” He thinks more. “I mean, it was… we couldn’t have done long distance. It would have gone bad and I didn’t want it to end like that.” The long distance thing is true. Every summer it was tougher to be apart – they’d string out the end of the season, whenever it was, as long as they could, then come back to Washington as early as possible. Sasha couldn’t have done that permanently. Probably not even for a few months.

“So you end it then.”

“Yeah. We were happy then, right?” Nicke shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I panicked.”

“Could have asked.” As it was, Sasha had thought he’d somehow misjudged their relationship completely. He’d considered not coming to this thing at all when he’d heard Nicke would be there too, but in the end his desire for closure – or at least to tell Nicke exactly how much it had hurt – had won out.

“Asked what, though?” Frustration is bleeding into Nicke’s voice. “Asked you to come with me? I couldn’t. I couldn’t ask that.”

He’d wanted to. God damn him, he’d wanted to and he’d hidden it from Sasha. Sasha’s gonna kill him. “Why not?”

“Wh– because you –” Nicke cuts himself off before he gets too loud. There are still people around, or Sasha would be on his knees already, begging Nicke to fucking _talk_. Nothing makes sense. “You were going home,” Nicke chokes out eventually, looking at the table. “Your family is there, everything is there. You’ve missed so much. I couldn’t ask you to – to pick me instead.”

“That’s not – it’s _us_.” Sasha used to think his identity would always be tied to Moscow, like the city was in his blood. But you can’t live off ghosts forever. “You think I pick a _place_ over _us?_”

“I don’t know!”

“Fifteen years. _Nicke_. Fifteen years we’re together and you think I won’t follow you anywhere you go? You think I care about _Moscow?_” Nicke would never live there, not the way Russia is now, so of course Sasha would go to him. Of course. Maybe he should have said so, instead of just waiting for it to happen. “I would have gone to the fucking moon for you, baby.”

Nicke laughs. “You’d hate it there. Nothing to do.” Translation: I thought you wouldn’t like it, my quiet life in my quiet town. I didn’t want you to start resenting me for it.

Sasha’s been speaking fluent Nicklas Backstrom for years, but he somehow missed that one before.

“You’d be there.” The way Nicke’s looking at him, Sasha might never move again. He looks like he’s got hope, he looks scared out of his mind, he looks brave. Sasha loves him. “That’s all I need. I can go visit, I can go on vacation, whatever. I’m coming back to you, though.”

“_Alex._”

“You know we already had this fight, right? Fucking years ago, come on.” Nicke’s shaking his head, but he’s smiling. They’d won their first Cup after that particular fight. “You’re not selfish to want things.”

When Nicke reaches out, Sasha meets him in the middle. They’re holding hands so tight it hurts. “I’m sorry. Alex.” He shushes Sasha with a finger to his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Sasha takes that hand down and holds it, too. “I know. You ruined my Cup day, you bastard.” Nicke bursts into giggles then, tension finally draining out of him. Sasha holds his hands and waits it out. If he laughs he’ll cry, but Nicke needs this. “So.” Sasha releases one hand so Nicke can cover his eyes for a second to finish calming down. “You got something to ask me, or what?”

The look Nicke gives him is so – God, so fond. It’s like getting into a hot bath, making Sasha’s skin tingle as it warms him to the core. “Do you want to come stay with me for a while? Try again?”

He’ll allow it. They never actually lived together, here in Washington. Time to try. “Yeah, Nicke, I do.”

***

Later, in Nicke’s hotel room, Nicke curls up in Sasha’s lap and lets himself be petted, like a cat that only pretends to be grumpy. Sasha runs his fingers through Nicke’s silvering hair, adjusting his mental map of Nicke’s body. A year is a long time.

“You have to cut your hair soon.”

“Thought you liked it long,” Nicke mumbles, then yawns and tucks himself closer into Sasha’s chest.

“Going bald, though.” That’s an exaggeration, but Nicke’s hair is thinning a lot. Sasha’s going to miss it.

Nicke groans. “Fuck off. I’m getting implants, it’s fine.”

What.

“_What?_” Nicke has always been a bit vain about his hair, the only thing about his appearance he ever puts effort into, but he’s been greying for a while. Sasha figured he was letting nature run its course. But he’s getting implants. Sasha can’t believe this, except that he _can_, and he’s fucking delighted. Nicke’s so fucking weird.

“I changed my mind, we’re breaking up again,” Nicke says, twisting away, but Sasha lunges for him and they end up in a breathless heap at the end of the bed.

Sasha, pinned, has no choice but to pull Nicke down and kiss him. It would be a crime not to, when his eyes are sparkling, his cheeks are pink, and he looks so fucking happy. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nicke murmurs into the underside of Sasha’s jaw. He slides his thigh between Sasha’s legs, and Sasha might not be hard again yet, but he’ll get there. Is getting there. Fuck, it’s been too long.

“You… uhh.” Nicke’s sucking one of Sasha’s nipples now, and it’s doing all kinds of good things to him. It’s also sort of turning his brain into scrambled eggs, so what Sasha says next was really, really not supposed to come out of his mouth. He just remembered something and he’s got no filter like this. “There’s a ring, I got, oh _fuck_ Nicke, you want –”

Nicke splutters and pulls away. “You what?”

Oh no, it’s too soon for this. “Nothing, we can talk about later.”

“Because that worked so well before.” Nicke sits up and straddles Sasha’s hips. He has a point. He’s also very naked and very beautiful. Sasha has to close his eyes, or he’s got no hope of thinking clearly.

“I bought you a – engagement ring. Before. Promise ring. Whatever.” He risks opening one eye. Nicke’s frozen in shock, jaw dropped. Sasha opens his other eye and hurries on, “it’s not important now, we can… later, maybe, but – what are you laughing at?”

It’s not laughing so much as slightly hysterical wheezing, actually. Sasha sits up in alarm and puts his arms around Nicke’s shaking shoulders. “You okay?” They’ve had too much emotional turmoil today.

Nicke thunks his head into the place Sasha’s neck and shoulder meet. He’s quiet for a little while, just breathing. Then, muffled, “I always used to tell people, _don’t think Ovi doesn’t care because he looks like he’s joking around, if he’s having fun he’s taking it seriously_. Should take my own advice, maybe.”

He didn’t think Sasha wanted to commit. After all those years, they still hadn’t got that out into the open.

“I love you,” Sasha repeats, then lifts Nicke’s chin up so he can see his face. “I’m always tell you this. You don’t believe me?”

“I do. I did.” Nicke blinks hard. He’s left a damp spot on Sasha’s shoulder. “I thought, I mean… you don’t like to plan ahead.” True. “You love me, yeah, but I never thought that means forever.” He puts his head back down. “Do you think we need to take a class?”

“What? Why?”

“_How to talk to your boyfriend and say what you mean_ class. I think those are a thing, now.” Nicke chuckles. “We’re not very good at this.”

“We can get a workbook, maybe.” Sasha’s a hard worker, and Nicke learns fast. “Do it together.”

Nicke tips his head up to look at Sasha again. He’s smiling. They can do this. They can do it properly this time.

Nicke kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> \- something something self-indulgent nonsense something something  
\- anyway, happy (extremely late) birthday hypocorism!


End file.
